The Fantabulous Twilight Rewrite
by Stereophonic Aftershock
Summary: This is not for devout fans of the thing that is Twilight. Many people have complained about characterization, plot, continuity, but how many have sought to rewrite the entire series to make it good? Read for less purple prose, less psychopathic, abusive boyfriends, real and accurate thoughts on imprinting, and no Mary-Sues!
1. Prologue

****Note**- This is not a fanfiction. This is a rewrite of a badly written, badly characterized saga. As such, it will have numerous changes that make **_**sense**_**. First- It is not a preface; it is a prologue. A preface is a note written by the author. If you are a devout fan, stop reading. If you are annoyed with the book, continue.**

****Disclaimer**- I am not Stephenie Meyer; I am an A Level English Language student in my school's Sixth Form. I am English. I can write **_**better**_** than she can.**

**Prologue**

_I had never given much thought as to how I would die... It was too much of a morbid thought for someone my age... Yet in these past few months, I have had enough of a reason to ponder it. I would never have thought that it would end like this...  
I stared across the long room, my heart had stopped, and I could not breathe. I was locked in the sinister dark eyes of _him_. The hunter. And he looked at me with an emotion I couldn't quite place.  
I was frozen to the spot. I knew that if I had never arrived in Forks, I wouldn't be here now; I wouldn't be facing my death. I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision... If I had never arrived, I would never have met Edward.  
The hunter smirked as he approached me._


	2. Chapter 1

****Note**- As stated last chapter, I don't own Twilight.**

**Chapter I  
First Sight**

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix; the sky was a perfect, cloudless blue. I had worn a t-shirt Phil bought me for Christmas last year; it was my favorite, a sleeveless, white eyelet lace.  
In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town called Forks was home to 3,192 people, my father being one of them. My mother hated it all the time she had lived there, and she had grown apart from him. She left, taking me with her when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd spent a month every summer until I was fourteen, when I'd put my foot down after a huge argument with my friend, Jacob. I had regretted it afterwards, but I could not bring myself to return, especially after mom met Phil. My dad, Charlie would book a hotel room for two weeks, and would vacation with me in California.  
From what I remember of Forks, I hated it. It was gloomy, it rained a lot, and everything thing reminded me of Jacob. In Phoenix, there was so much sun, it almost looked _happier_.

Mom parked the car, 'Bella,' she told me, not for the first time, 'You don't have to do this.'

'I _want_ to go,' I reassured her, but I was partly lying.

'Tell Charlie I said hi.'

'I will,' I said, smiling fondly.

'You'll come down in the summer, won't you?' she asked me, sounding worried.

'Of course I will!' I cried.

She hugged me tightly for a minute, I knew how difficult this was for her; she had always seen me as her baby. But of course, every baby had to grow up someday. 'I'll call you as soon as I get there,' I promised.

The flight from Phoenix to Seattle lasted for four hours. It was another hour to Port Angeles. That was where dad would drive me to Forks. I was a little worried about being in the car with him for an hour. What would we talk about? I knew that he was more than a little confused by my decision, though he did seem genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him. He had even gotten me registered for high school, and was even going to help me find a car.  
It was raining when I landed in Port Angeles. I was slightly disappointed, but hoped that I would have a chance to go for a walk in the woods.  
Dad was waiting for me with the cruiser. I expected this; he was the Police Chief. My primary motivation to buying a car was because I refused to be driven to school in the cruiser.  
He gave me an awkward, one-armed hug as I stumbled into the airport waiting area.

'It's good to see you, Bells,' he said with a smiling reaching his eyes.

I couldn't help but smile back, 'It's good to see you too, dad. Mom says 'hi'.'

'How is she?' he asked.

'Mom's fine,' I told him.  
I had most of my clothes and possessions packed into suitcases and with me, the rest were at home in Phoenix, for when I would visit in the summer to save me bringing everything with me. Dad helped me pack the suitcases into the car, some, like my carry-on case, had to be put on the back seat.

'I found a good car for you, really cheap,' he announced when we were strapped in.

'What kind of car?' I was a little suspicious of the way he said 'for you', as though he didn't trust me.

'Well, it's actually a truck, it's a Chevy,' he said proudly.

My jaw dropped, how did he know my little obsession with Chevys? 'Where did you _find_ it?'

He looked uncomfortable, 'Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?'

'Yes.' He was Jacob's father

'He's in a wheelchair now.'

'What happened?' I asked, forgetting about being upset.

'He had an accident with a car.'

I could tell from the look on dad's face that he wasn't about to reveal everything. I decided to change the subject. 'What year is it?'

'Billy's done a lot of work on the engine. He bought it used in 1984, I think.'

I grinned, grateful for it, yet there was one thing that was playing on my mind. 'I really don't know anything about cars, I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrong, and I couldn't afford a mechanic.'

'Don't worry, Bella. If anything happened, I'd help you pay for it, at least until you get a job.'

'Thank-you!' I wished that I could hug him, but he was still driving. 'So how cheap is cheap?'

'Well, honey, I already bought it for you as a homecoming gift,' he peeked sideways at me with a hopeful expression.

My first reaction was indignation; he noticed this and said, 'I want you to be happy here,' he said this rather stiffly, but I knew that he wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions.

'Well, thanks Dad. I appreciate it.' I smiled warmly, and I did.

We spent the rest of the conversation exchanging comments on the weather; Dad said that it would improve during the weekend.

'I'll take you around the forest if you like,' he said, 'maybe we could go camping.'

I nodded, 'Yeah, that'd be great.'

We stared out the windows in silence for the rest of the trip; I couldn't help but be fascinated by the scenery, if a little glum. I couldn't deny how beautiful it was- everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it. It was almost too green.  
Eventually we made it to Dad's house. He still lived in the small, two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother in the early days of their marriage. There, parked on the street in front of the house was my truck. It was a faded red with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. I loved it. I hugged Dad tightly, ran to the Chevy, and ran my hand over the wing-mirror and hood, it was a bit dirty, but I could easily take care of that.

'Oh, Dad, I love it! Thank-you, _so_ much!'

'I'm glad you like it,' he said gruffly. It took a couple of trips (with dad helping of course) to get all of my stuff upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. It belonged to me since I was born, but there wasn't much of the baby stuff left over. The floors were still wooden, the walls were light blue, and the lace curtains smelled fresh. Dad had changed the crib to a bed with dark blue covers and pillows, and he had added a desk. He knew that I had a Dell laptop, so he had left a space on the desk for it, there was a phone line for the modem stapled along the floor to the nearest phone jack. The rocking chair from when I was a baby was still in the corner.

'It's good when you want to think, Bella. It's relaxing,' Dad told me.

There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with him.  
He left me alone to unpack and get settled. It was nice to be alone; I had the chance to reflect. I let a few tears fall, knowing that I would not be able to see mom… I felt a little homesick.

Forks High School had a total of three hundred and fifty-seven students. All of the kids here had grown up together. I would be the new girl from a city. I was nervous.  
Maybe if I looked like a typical girl from Phoenix, then I could act confident, and feel better about myself, but I wasn't. I should be tan, sporty and have hair bleached blonde by the sun. I think that the summers in Forks had given me a paler color, but I didn't understand it properly. I was ivory-skinned and a brunette despite the constant sunlight, I wasn't very good at sports- preferring to hike or camp. I had tried playing volleyball once, but ended up hitting my teammate by accident. Mom looked like me with short hair and laughter lines.  
I never fit in at my old school, sure I had people that I got on with, but no one I could class as friends. I never related well with people; I liked the solitude of sitting in my bedroom with a good book.  
Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes as the rest of the world was seeing through theirs.

I didn't sleep well that night. Despite my father's assurances, the rain showed no sign of stopping. I couldn't drown out the _whooshing_ of the rain and wind across the roof, even after I pulled the fabric of my quilt and my pillow over my head. I eventually managed to sleep, but that was well past midnight, as my alarm clock had told me.  
When I woke up in the morning and drew back my curtains, all I could see was thick fog. It led well into the breakfast conversation. After another reassurance on the weather for the weekend, he wished me good luck at school. I thanked him, but I was still very nervous. Dad left first, heading for the police station that had been his wife and family. I sat at the old square oak table in one of the three chairs surrounding it and reacquainted myself with his small kitchen, with its dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets and white linoleum floor that was all too bright to look at in the morning. Nothing had changed. My mother had painted the cabinets eighteen years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house. Dad must have liked it; else he wouldn't have kept it. Over the small fireplace in the family room next door was a row of pictures. First was a wedding picture of my parents in Las Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, followed by my school pictures up to last year's. They were embarrassing to look at, especially the one of me in third grade with braces. I thought about asking dad to take them down, or at least move them to a different room.  
It made me uncomfortable, knowing that he never got over my mom, but of course I couldn't relate; I had never had a boyfriend before.

I didn't want to be too early for school, but I couldn't stay in the house any longer. I put on my jacket and headed out into the rain.  
It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately, but I still cursed my lack of foresight in not thinking to buy an umbrella. I pulled my key to the front door from my pocket, and locked the door, letting the key fall into my trouser pocket. Dad had given it to me last night over dinner. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots annoyed me, as it reminded me about my lack of umbrella. I couldn't admire my new truck like I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out of the misty rain. It was nice and dry inside the truck, but I still had to pull my jacket closer to my body. Someone had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline and peppermint. The engine started quickly, saving me a bit of embarrassment after school, but it was loud. The antique radio worked, a plus that I wasn't expecting.  
I managed to find the school, but I had cheated by using a Sat Nav that had been installed. It was just off the highway, only recognizable as a school by the sign, which declared it to be Forks High School. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon colored bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. It was very inviting.  
I parked in front of the first building, hoping that I hadn't just taken someone's spot. There was a small sign over the building's door reading 'front office'. I stepped unwillingly out of the now toasty truck and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a few seconds to compose myself, feeling my stomach dropping and my legs wobbling, and then I opened the door.  
Inside, it was brightly lit, and well-heated. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards lining the walls and there was a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew in large plastic pots, and stood in corners. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. I approached her. She gave me a warm smile when she looked up, 'Can I help you?' she asked.

'I'm Isabella Swan,' I told her, and saw a look of recognition.

'Of course,' she said. She picked up some documents from her desk, 'I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school.' She brought the sheets to the counter to show me.  
She went through my classes with me, highlighting the best route to each one on the map, and gave me a slip for each teacher to sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day, then showed me where the parking spots for students were. Afterwards, she gave me another smile and hoped that I would like it in Forks. I smiled back, answering with a shaky, 'I will.'

When I went back to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was surprised to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot, there was a Volvo painted dark blue in an attempt to blend in with the other cars, but looked nowhere near as flashy as the Porsche. I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot, hoping that the volume wouldn't draw attention to me.  
I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now, so I wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder and took a deep breath. _You can do this_, I told myself feebly, I didn't believe it at all. _No one's going to bite you_. I finally let out my breath and stepped out of the truck.  
I kept my hood pulled over my head, and kept it down as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. I hoped that I was blending in, and noticed with relief that my plain black jacket didn't stand out- I had decided against wearing clothes with well-known labels or band designs.  
Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot; a large black, '3' was painted on a white square on the east corner. I held my breath as I followed two unisex raincoats through the door.  
The classroom was smaller than the one back in Phoenix, but larger than expected. The people in front of me hung their coats on a long row of hooks just behind the door. I shrugged out of my jacket and copied them. They were two girls, both as pale as I was; one was a blonde, while the other had light brown hair.  
I gave the slip to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He raised an eyebrow when I approached, and then nodded the same way as the secretary.

'So, Bella, there is an empty desk at the back of the classroom, but before you sit down, I have a question.'

I nodded.

'Our current reading list comprises of Austen, Golding, Shakespeare, Tolstoy and epic poetry. Have you dealt with any of these in Phoenix?'

'Only Shakespeare,' I told him, my voice was quiet, but luckily I didn't need to repeat myself.

'Very well,' he waved him hand to allow me to sit. I walked slowly to my seat, glad that it was more difficult for my new classmates to stare at me, not that I would have had that problem- they ignored me for most of the lesson.  
The reading list was comforting, Jane Austen was among my favorite writers, and Golding's analogous novels were fun to read. Still, I wondered if my mom would send me my folder of old essays to use for comparison. After I had unpacked, I had called her to let her know that I had arrived safely. I listened carefully to Mr. Mason, but his voice droned enough that I was almost distracted.  
When the bell rang, a gangly boy with skin problems and black hair leaned across the table to talk to me.

'You're Isabella Swan, aren't you? The police chief's kid?'

'Bella,' I corrected, 'Isabella's too much of a mouthful.' I heard someone snort, but ignored them.

'Right, right,' he too was smirking.

'Is there something funny?' I asked feeling slightly annoyed.

'Nope. Where's your next class?' he asked.

I had to check my bag, 'Um, Government, with Jefferson in building six.'

I looked down to avoid curious eyes, my face burning bright red.

'I'm heading toward building four, I could show you the way if you like? I'm Eric,' he said, now smiling kindly.

I returned his smile tentatively, 'Thanks.'

We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up.

'So this is a lot different from Phoenix, huh?' he asked.

'Very'

'It doesn't rain much there, does it?'

'Not really, only about 20" a year, I think.'

'You don't look very tan; I'd have thought that it's very sunny up there.'

'My mother is part albino.'

Silence.

'I'm not very good at telling jokes.'

Eric hummed, 'Yeah… It wasn't very good.' We laughed together at my own expense.

'So, Eric,' I started, eager to have a friend here, 'what's it like here? You get a lot of stereotypes in films.'

'Well, no one's going to stick your head down the toilet,' he said, 'that's usually specially reserved for the geeks.' He shuddered.

'Did it ever happen to you?' I asked.

'Just the once. It wasn't very pleasant.'

We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south building by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, which was nice, even though it was clearly marked.

'Well, good luck,' he said as I touched the handle. 'Maybe we'll have some other classes together.'

I smiled at him and watched as he darted to his class, before going inside.

Government was a fairly boring class, and I was happy to see it end. Spanish went by so quickly that I didn't notice when it finished. My trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I had stammered, blushed and almost tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat.  
After those three classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There was always someone who would introduce themselves and ask questions about where I was from or how I liked Forks. I tried to be honest, but found that I couldn't say much in response.  
One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was several inches shorter than I was, so I guessed that she was at least five foot. I couldn't remember her name, so I smiled and nodded as she spoke about teachers and classes. I hoped that someone would mention it later.  
She introduced me to her friends as we sat down at the end of a full table. I tried to remember their names, but my mind was so frazzled. I saw Eric wave at me from across the room.

It was from there that I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner if the cafeteria, as far away from everyone else as possible, from what I could see. There were five of them, and they weren't talking to each other. They sat without food, but had a sports bottle with them. They could have been related, except they didn't look anything alike. One of the three boys was muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark, curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and was honey blond. The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy bronze-colored hair.  
The two girls were opposites. The tall one had a beautiful figure, almost like the sort of model you'd see on the cover of _Sports Illustrated_. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. She had an old-fashioned edge to her appearance through her facial structure that I found to be quite attractive on her.  
The short girl was exactly that. She was almost pixie-like, thin in the extreme. Her eyes looked sunken, but covered hastily with a pale foundation. I got the impression that she hadn't had a good night's sleep in years. Her deep black hair was cropped short and flicked out at the ends, seeming to point in every direction.  
Yet there were little things in their appearance that I couldn't miss. Each of their skin was chalky pale, making them paler than anyone else that I had seen in the school, including the teachers. Their faces, so different yet so similar, were all beautiful, inhumanly so.

'Who are _they_?' I asked the girl I had walked with.

As she looked up to see who I meant, the thinner boy looked at her. He watched her for a fraction of a second before his eyes flickered to mine. I looked away quickly, but could still feel his eyes on me. The girl, Jessica I remembered, huffed, 'Oh, _those_ are the Cullens,' she pointed discreetly to each of them, telling me their names, 'Those are Edward, Emmett and Alice Cullen, and those two are Rosalie and Jasper Hale. They all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife.'

'They don't _look_ related,' I said, raising a small eyebrow, looking over at them. I saw the one called Edward- the lanky one- frown slightly as he told Alice (the pixie) something.

They were nice names- even Emmett, which I couldn't help but be reminded of Back to the Future when I heard it. Rosalie was quite an odd name, but it suited the blonde beauty.

'They're not!' Jessica said. I looked at her confused, before she continued, 'The Cullens are adopted; Mrs. Cullen can't have kids, I think. Thing is, they're all… _together_. Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice. And they _live_ together!'

'Is that even legal?' asked one her female friends, Angela.

Jessica shrugged. 'Well, the Hales _are_ brother and sister; they're twins. They were fostered when they were eight. Mrs. Cullen is their aunt or something.'

'They haven't always lived in Forks, though,' Angela picked up. 'They moved down two years ago from Alaska, at least, that's what _I_ heard.'

'What do you mean?' I asked.

'Well,' said Jessica, 'They apparently used to live here _ages_ ago. My dad can remember the doctor, and he said that he hadn't changed a bit in appearance.'

We watched as they left the cafeteria, each clutching their sports bottles in their right hands. Angela checked her watch, 'Oops! We're gonna have to get to class. What do you have next, Bella?'

I checked my timetable, 'Biology II.'

She smiled, 'Same. Come on, I'll show you the way.'

We stood up and walked to class together, saying goodbye to Jessica as we did. Angela was silent; it turned out that she was shy too. When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at the back of the classroom. She, like everyone else already had a neighbor.

Well, everyone but _one_. Edward Cullen.

I walked down the aisle to the teacher, focusing on actually getting there so I didn't trip over my own feet or something stupid like that. Mr. Banner, the teacher, signed my slip and handed me a book. He sent me to the middle of the classroom to sit next to Edward, who looked annoyed, as if he knew that Jessica, Angela and I had been talking about him and his family.

I set down my book without looking at him and took my seat. I saw him lean away from me, out of the corner of my eye, he was averting his face as if he smelled something bad. No one else had a similar reaction, so I couldn't put it down to body odor, so I just sniffed my hair, just in case. It smelled like strawberries, though I didn't know what else could have caused this reaction. I decided to ignore him and focused my attention on the teacher.

The lesson was on cellular anatomy, which we had already covered back in Phoenix, but I took notes anyway in case there was anything different.

As the lesson came to a close, and we were packing our things away, I stole a glance at him- immediately regretting it. The look he gave me when he saw me was filled with revulsion. I flinched away from him, _if looks could kill_, I thought. There was something odd about his eyes, and it was only later that I realized why; what I thought were dark brown eyes were really black.

Finally the bell rang, and he swept out of the classroom before anyone else, leaving me standing there feeling embarrassed and hurt. I stared blankly at him. What was _his_ problem? I tried to block the anger that was currently rising, so that I wouldn't snap at the next unfortunate person to talk to me.

'Aren't you Isabella Swan?' a male voice asked.

I looked up to see a baby-faced boy with spiky blond hair- obviously styled using gel. He was cute, I had to admit, and was smiling at me in a friendly way.

'Bella,' I corrected him.

'I'm Mike. You don't look so happy.'

I looked at the door. Mike noticed this and said, 'Ah, the 'amazing' Edward Cullen. All the girls want him, yet he doesn't date. None of 'em are _good-looking_ enough for him.'

My jaw dropped, 'That's _never_ why he doesn't date!' I said stunned.

He shook his head, 'No, but he certainly gives that impression. Do you need help finding your next class?' he asked, changing the topic.

'I'm heading to gym, but I think I can find it.'

He grinned, 'That's my next class, too.'

We talked on the way to gym. Well, _he_ did at least. He lived in California until he was ten, so he shared some of my opinions on the weather here. He was also in my English class, and sometimes sat with Jessica and Angela at lunch.

We left to enter our respective dressing rooms. I went straight through into the gym to find the Coach. His name was Lapp, but a lot of kids apparently nicknamed him Coach Clapp behind his back. I gave him the slip to sign, and he told me that I didn't need to take part in the physical part of the lesson- only act as umpire for the four volleyball games that were played. At least this part of P.E. I knew.

The final bell rang after this, so I left for the office to return my paperwork. The rain had at last drifted away, which lightened my spirits. I walked to the desk with a slightly flushed face from yelling in P.E. and handed her the signed slip.

'How did your first day go, dear?' the receptionist asked kindly.

'It went well,' I told her, and she smiled warmly in response.

When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. It was cold, so I was happy to turn the key in the ignition and let the hot air flow in from the heater. I headed back to Dad's house- no _home_ with surprisingly light spirits. Barring the incident with Edward Cullen, my day went very well.


End file.
